


Nowhere Else To Go

by Ad_Absurdum



Category: Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Smiths
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Absurdum/pseuds/Ad_Absurdum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fic came out of my wondering at Johnny's words concerning how the royalties were divided among The Smiths. At Morrissey's claim that he and Marr should get more money (recording royalties) than the other two, Marr said: "I wasn't in the position to say it should be anything other than the way it was laid out." (2011) (<em>A Light That Never Goes Out</em> by Tony Fletcher, page 297).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nowhere Else To Go

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Never happened. All slander and lies. Well, the financial arrangements unfortunately did happen.  
>  **A/N:** This is a fic with agenda and this is not a nice fic. Especially for Morrissey lovers or for those thinking Johnny can do no bad. Please don't leave comments if you want to argue Morrissey's or Johnny's case any further than saying "they were young, they didn't know what they were doing". It's painful enogh to see what came out of that mess.

"What?" Johnny frowned, looking up from his guitar.

"You heard me." Morrissey was looking at him seriously from his perch on an arm of the couch they both occupied. "I don't think Mike and Andy should get as much money as we do."

Johnny considered that.

"Well, they don't," he finally said. "We get all the royalties from songwriting, so they don't get anything from publishing."

"Yeah, but there's still recording proceeds." Morrissey was looking at him intently.

Johnny blinked. "They _have_ to get something."

Morrissey rolled his eyes. "I know that. They'll get twenty percent."

"Each?" Johnny asked, not seeing what the fuss was about. That would be a nearly equal split. Well, he and Mozzer would still get sixty percent both, and though he'd be more inclined to let the four of them have twenty five percent each, he wouldn't make a drama out of it if Morrissey got stubborn.

"Not each. Together."

Johnny did a quick recalculation. "You want Mike and Andy to get ten percent of the record royalties?" he asked surprised.

"Precisely." Morrissey smiled with satisfaction.

"But... why?" Johnny couldn't understand that one. "After all, they're there, in the studio with us, eight hours each day and it's not like Andy's playing on one string only and Mike's got his right hand tied behind his back."

He shook his head. "I think we should go equal with this one."

"Oh please, Johnny." Morrissey sighed, looking like a teacher explaining something to a favourite but dim-witted pupil. "You know it makes more sense this way. What would they need all that money for, anyway? Drinking, drugs and dubious sexual thrills?"

Morrissey made a face and Johnny lifted his eyebrow at the alliteration.

"I don't care what they're gonna spend their money on. And I still think it's a bad idea," he finally said.

"Well, I don't." Morrissey crossed his arms over his chest. "You're going to have to tell them about the eighty-twenty split."

"You're joking, right?" Johnny, seeing this was more serious than he thought, put away his guitar and turned to face Morrissey fully.

"Why would I? Money's no joking matter as you're well aware."

"I can't do this." Johnny was shaking his head, watching Morrissey's implacable expression. "It's a bad idea, I don't agree with it and I just... can't, all right?"

Morrissey sighed again. "You can't or you won't?"

"Same difference." Johnny scowled.

"Well, you give me no choice, then." For a moment Morrissey looked like he was sorry.

"What do you mean?" Johnny watched his friend suspiciously.

"You _will_ tell Andy and Mike they'll get only twenty percent or I'll tell Angie what happened a week ago after we'd finished writing at my place."

Johnny blanched.

"Ah, I see you remember." Morrissey smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

"You are joking," Johnny said in disbelief.

Morrissey tutted.

"You keep saying that, but why would I?" he asked.

"You wouldn't tell Angie that." Johnny shook his head. "She wouldn't believe you."

"Wouldn't she? Well, maybe not, but are you willing to take the risk? And everything's been going so well between the two of you recently. Shame if you were to break up now."

It was all said in so mild a tone, Johnny couldn't believe what he was hearing. And from whom.

He remembered the night a week ago with no problem, though. He remembered his racing heart, the thrill of doing something so "forbidden". And the unexpected rush of pleasure at the first taste of Morrissey's lips. The skin of his neck. His nipple. His cock.

It wasn't debasing and it wasn't perverted. Not to Johnny. It was... wonderful and Johnny had loved it. Loved to see his pleasure mirrored on Morrissey's face, loved to hear those quiet moans and loved the salty-bitter taste of Morrissey's come on his tongue.

Johnny swallowed the memory. He would have never imagined it could taste quite so bitter.

"You cannot be serious," he said quietly.

"Try me." Morrissey looked disinterestedly through the window.

And Johnny knew he lost.

"I..." Johnny blinked, his head empty of thoughts. "Okay," he sighed. "I'll do what you want."

He stared at Morrissey as if he'd never seen him before. Well, maybe he had seen him before but apparently didn't know him at all.

"I'd have never thought you could do something like that," he finally said. "Why? Do you want that money so bad?"

Morrissey cocked his head, returning the gaze. He smiled faintly.

"Don't worry. You'll only benefit from this. Still with your girlfriend, but now slightly richer."

Johnny shook his head and turned to leave. He mumbled something Morrissey didn't hear and disappeared, quietly closing the door behind him.

Morrissey watched him go, feeling somewhat disappointed.

Up until now he'd thought he'd found someone nearly perfect: a friend, a partner, a soul-mate if someone bought into that spiritual bonds slash fate nonsense.

But in the end it turned out Johnny was like everyone else. Weak.

Of course Morrissey wouldn't have told Angie what happened between him and Johnny if Johnny had stood by his words now.

To tell the truth, Morrissey wasn't that bothered about the money, but he pushed - as always - to see what would happen. To see if Johnny would stand up to him.

He didn't. It _was_ disappointing.

Morrissey sighed. Another person that would take a few inconsequential moments of his life. Passing through, never touching and ultimately forgotten. As always.

Would there ever be anything else?


End file.
